The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-06-11

bOnuOn coIneS very nearly U lui Sto
To see one of these fogs may do very we
for novelty, but we shall try not to be
London at the season when they general
occur, which is late autumn and winter.
st. Paul's is the largest ProtestaI
church in the world; and when we get il
side of it and stand under the great dom
we shall be apt to think that it is bar'
looking place, and rather too big. 1t
adorned with great many fine groups c
statuary in memory of English soldiers an
heroes; hut these do not help much t
brighten up its cold and dull interior. s.
Peters at Rome is twice as large, but is
much more cheerful place.
1t seems rather odd to come to a church
yard to buy things, but St. Paurs Church
yard is one of the great resorts of Londol
shoppers. 1t is not now really church
yard, but is street which runs entirel,
around the great church, and is filled witt
shops. Here we can stroll among tn
crowds of people on the sidewalk, and OF
one side look upon windows filed witt
everything that any one would want tt
buy, and on the other side gaze up at th'
magnificent cathedral which is the pride O
London.
1t will interest us very much in going
about London to meet with many streets
and places which, although we now see
them for the first time, seem to us like old
acquaintance. From one corner of St
Paul's Churchyard is the lively street call
ed Cheapside, from which John Gilpin
started on his famous ride.
From the front of St. Paurs runs the
street called Ludgate Hill, just as busy as
it can be, and crowded with omnibuses
cabs, wagons, and people. A little farther
on, this same street becomes Fleet Street
where we find many book shops and print
ing establishments, which always make us
think of DIR. johnson, because he was SO
fond of this street. Near it he wrote his
great dictionary, and lived and died. AT
the end of Fleet Street used to stand Tenn
pie Bar, which was an archway across the
street, ornamented with iron spikes on
which the heads of executed traitors used
to be stuck This celebrated gateway was
one of the entrances to the city, and the
King of England had no right to go through
it unless he had permission of the Lord
Mayor. Even now, Queen Victoria does
not pass the monument which stands in the
place of the old Temple Bar without the
formal consent of the Lord Mayor.
Near this place rises the magnificent
building recently erected for the London
Law Courts. 1t covers a whole block, and,
with its towers and turrets and peaked roofs,
resembles vast Norman castle.
We now find ourselves in that street,
well known to readers of English books
called the Strand, where the shops, the
people, and the omnibuses seem to increase
in number Here we shall see in the win
dows all manner of useful things; and, in
deed, in our rambles through London we
shall discover that, although there are many
filled with ornamental objects,
the commodities offered for sale are gener-
ally things of real use,-to wear, to travel
with, to eat, to read, or to make of some
manner of use. In Paris there are many
more beautiful objects, but they do not so
much seem to be the things we really need.
The Strand ends at Charing Cross, where
we may see model of an old-time cross
which used to stand here Charing Cross
is one of the great centers of London life.
1t seems as if most of the citizens make it
their business 10 come here at least once
a day. Several lines of omnibuses start
from this point; here are great railway
station and an immense hotel; little streets
and big streets run off in every direction;
cabs, men, boys, women, and wagons do the
same thing; and it would be almost impos-
sible to cross from one side to the other,
were it not for little curbed space like an
island in the middle of the street. on which
we can rest when we get half way over,
and wait for a chance to cross the other
half of the street. Nearly all the crowded
streets of London, as well as those of Paris,
are provided with these little central refugees
for foot-passengers. All the vehicles GO
ing up the street pass on one side of these
islands, while those going down pass on
the other; so that we only have to look in
one direction for horses heads when we
are actually in the street. But we must
that in England the law obliges
vehicles to keep to theleft, while in France
they turn to the right, as with us.
Close to Charing Cross is Trafalgar
Square, a fine open space with fountain,
and column to Lord Nelson; and facing
this square we see the pillars and the por-
tico of the National Gallery The admira-
bic collection of paintings in this building
is not nearly so large as those we have
seen in Paris and Italy; but it will greatly
us in two ways 1t will not only be
to see pictures by English painters
on English subjects, as well as many very fine
paintings by Continental masters, but we shall
be surprised, and very much pleased, contin-
ually to meet with the originals of eugrav-
ings on steel and wood with which we
have been familiar all our lives. Here are
Landseer's dogs and horses, the children of
Sir Joshua Reynolds and Sir Thomas
Lawrence, Wilkes village scenes, and many
other paintings which we shall recognize
the moment our eyes fall upon them.
Returning across Trafalgar Square, we
continue our walk, and find that the Strand
is now changed into broad street, called
in which are situated many of
the governmental and public offices, such
rs the Treasury, the War Office, and so on.
One of these buildings belongs to the
Horse Guards, very fine body of English
cavalry, and here we shall see something
On each side of broad gate
way is little house, or shed, with its front
entirely oper to the sidewalk; and in each
Of these houses is a soldier on horseback.
This soldier is dressed in a splendid scarlet
coat, steel helmet with long plume, and
boots. The horse is coal-black
which is the regulation color of the Horse
Guards horses. The peculiarity of this
pair of men and horses is that, while they
are stationed here on guard, they never
move; the man sits as if he were carved in
stone; and although 1 have no doubt he
winks, he does it SO that nobody notices it,
while the horse is almost as motionless as
one of the bronze horses of st. Marks in
Venice. He neither switches his tail, mods
his head, nor stamps his feet. He has been
-rained to do nothing but think while he